Self-Improvement

EDI finished another self-diagnostic. Nothing unusual to report. She was stuck. She couldn't figure out what was wrong with her, but every moment she spent disconnected from the Normandy was another where the ship was hobbled. It hadn't been designed to fly like this; they would have to proceed with **** caution. She would like to walk down to the A.I. core and inspect it herself, but she couldn't leave the cockpit unattended in this condition. She would have to send for someone else. Tali was the ideal choice, but if something did go wrong, the Quarian would be best put to use in engineering. Dr. T'Soni could potentially lend her technical expertise, but despite Shepard's fondness for her, EDI was less than enamored with the idea of giving access to her inner workings to the galaxy's most dangerous gossip.

EDI realized she was experiencing something she'd witnessed in others before: helplessness. She now understood why others found it so unpleasant.

She went back to running diagnostics and trying to chart a course to the nearest safe harbor.

...

It was turning into a red-letter day, or night as it were. Ashley hadn't anticipated needing to remove the doctors from play so quickly. She had merely wanted Haze to isolate EDI, but chaos theory had apparently decided to make things difficult. Still, the security system was down, and the crew was mostly sound asleep for the night cycle. That gave them a wide window of opportunity, one which she intended to take advantage of.

"Malady," she commanded, "you will go to the general crew quarters. You will convert the sleeping crew without alerting anyone to your activities."

"Yes mistress," Malady nodded. Instinctively, her arm lengthened into a spike, similar to the one the husks were mounted on. It would be admittedly painful, none of the pleasure of her mistress' gentle touch, but they would be thankful once they were reborn. "It will be done."

Ashley nodded, then turned to Haze.

"Haze, you're to survey the ship. Make sure everyone else is where they should be, and if they're not, feel free to take them yourself."

"Ooh... Yes mistress," Haze cooed. All three of them walked out into the infirmary again, but Ashley stopped when she caught a glimpse of herself in the infirmary windows. She seemed contemplative. Haze and Malady turned back to her. "Mistress?" Haze asked. "Is something the matter?"

"I am no longer hiding who I truly am, yet I still hide what I truly am... I think it is time to correct that." She started to glow. Haze and Malady watched in awe as she changed. Her outfit became part of her skin, but unlike her thralls, hers took on the complexion of chitin, resembling the Collectors, and it spread all over her body like an exoskeleton. It wasn't as rough and tumble as the Collectors however; hers was symmetrical, elegant, no strange breaks or openings. She was like a Queen Bee, floating among her drones. Her hair fell out, and in its place, a cowl of chitin grew from her head, making it seem as though a helmet had fused with her skull framing her still beautiful face. At the top of the cowl, protrusions grew into horns, forming a sort of a crown. Then, in a brilliant flash of blue, the chitin turned to the dark metallic sheen of the Reapers. Her face turned a shade of blue that would have made the Asari jealous, and her eyes glowed with the electric surge of technology. Ashley spent a moment admiring her reflection; while her body had already been well-endowed, she'd given herself a little boost to make her tits and ass appear more firm and generous compared to her servants. She was in charge, after all.

"Call me... Widow," she said, renouncing her weak, human disguise. "For I am without my truest loves," she thought of Harbinger and the Reapers.

"Yes mistress Widow," Haze and Malady nodded.

"Haze, do as you were instructed," she commanded. Haze nodded and cloaked, disappearing through the doorway. "Malady, I think I will accompany you. There's something I'd like to try."

...

The general quarters was packed like sardines, dozens of young women who had come to serve the great Commander Shepard. As Widow and Malady stood in the doorway, Widow couldn't help but smile. Soon they'd be serving a far nobler cause.

She held out her arms, concentrated, and nodules began to form all over her body. In a few short seconds, the growths solidified into a dark metal version of the insects which had sent the original Ashley to her doom.

"Fly little ones," she said, "do you duties, then return to me."

The insects lifted off, flying silently through the quarters. They were quick and precise. They would land on the victim's neck, insert a small probe into their skin, and within seconds the target would be paralyzed, trapped in stasis. Some of them had just long enough to open their eyes and become aware that something was terribly wrong, before becoming a prisoner to their own bodies, **** to watch as Malady began to make the rounds and convert the immobilized crew, all possibility of resistance or warning eradicated. The insects returned to Widow, melting back down into her body. She felt immense satisfaction as she saw Malady plunge her spike into her first victim. She watched as the metal and circuitry overtook them. Unlike with the crew in positions of power, these worker drones would be identical in every way. Grey metallic with electric blue circuits, lovely feminine curves, completely hairless, no minds, simply receivers in their otherwise empty heads through which they would take and obey simple commands.

As the first rose and at attention, Widow was very pleased indeed. This takeover was progressing quicker and more smoothly than her masters could have ever anticipated.